the step down to the ground and crossed the grass between them, slim hips swaying gently, the long side slit in the skirt of her gown flashing glimpses of her spectacular legs with each stride.
A sultry smile played at the corners of her sweet full lips, lips painted a rich burgundy shade that reminded him of chokecherries. He’d always loved the taste of chokecherry syrup—the perfect blend of tart and sweet.
A twinge of alarm pinched Jake’s gut. Aw, nuts, he had no business noticing her lips. Or her legs. Or that her gown fit her like the peel on an apple.
Damn, but she had lovely shoulders and collarbones and…he didn’t dare complete that thought. Or look where his and every other man’s gaze had been straying all day. While it covered all the necessary territory, that dress just didn’t leave a guy much guesswork when it came to judging a woman’s breast endowment. Hope’s appeared more than adequate for his tastes.
He had no damn business noticing that, either.
“Hey there, Jake,” she drawled as she approached, still managing to sound more like Rodeo Drive than Sunshine Gap, Wyoming. Stopping beside his chair, she leaned down and held out her hands in invitation. “Dance with me?”
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he couldn’t have uttered a word if she’d pressed the barrel of a loaded .45 between his eyes. She leaned even closer. Her bosom swelled against that tight bodice, giving him an enticing view of creamy, rounded cleavage.
Damn, but he wanted more whiskey.
The scent of some subtle perfume wafted his way. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was, but it sure smelled good. Spicy and a little musky. Made him think of hot, rollicking sex.
His mouth went dust-dry. His heart banged around inside his chest like a cranky old truck engine in dire need of a ring job. His skin felt hot and tight, and his throat contracted on a hard swallow.
Lord, if he could get her alone and peel her out of that dress, he just knew she’d look and smell and taste like every one of his most secret sexual fantasies come to life.
He wanted her like he wanted his next breath, his next meal, his most cherished, lifelong goal of… Damned if he could even remember what that was right now. All he could see was Hope.
She smiled directly into his eyes and spoke in a voice gone soft and husky. “Well? What do you say, cowboy? Want to dance?”
A smart man would ignore this insane but powerful attraction, make a polite excuse and head for the hills. Jake had been a smart man all summer with regard to Hope. But today he was sick and tired of being smart.
With her standing right in front of him, looking so sweet and sexy, and knowing that out of all the guys at this shindig, many younger, more handsome and more charming, she wanted to be with him… Well, he had to admit it was flattering as hell. And where was the harm in enjoying that for a little while? After all, it was just a dance.
He wasn’t going to sleep with her, fall in love with her, or, God forbid, marry her.
So what if this was the fifth family wedding in the past year? He didn’t need to get himself all spooked about it. By tomorrow, she’d show up for lunch with green or purple hair. She’d be wearing one of those eye-popping, L.A.-Western getups no self-respecting cowgirl would even try on, much less buy, and he’d remember all the reasons he’d been avoiding her.
Glad to have that figured out, he stood up and offered the lady his arm. “Thanks, Hope. It’ll be my pleasure.”
Hope blinked in surprise at Jake’s laid-back smile and easy acceptance of her invitation. He’d been avoiding her so much lately, she’d expected to have to drag him onto the dance floor, if she managed to get him to dance with her at all. She exhaled the breath she’d been holding while he made up his mind; it probably had taken only a few seconds, but it had felt like an eternity. She didn’t even want to know what complicated mental gyrations he’d performed in reaching his decision.
Hope’s Rule Number One for a Happy Life was never question the Universe when it gives you what you want, and today the Universe was in an extremely generous mood.
The weather had been perfect for the wedding, with only pleasantly warm temperatures for the middle of July. Blair’s darling cowboy, Dillon McBride, was now her husband, and the newlyweds were safely on their way to a storybook honeymoon on a tropical island the media would never find.
The reception had turned into a lovely party, with none of the brittle, see-and-be-seen politics so prevalent at Hollywood social gatherings. All in all, it had been a perfect day. Having an opportunity to dance with Jake was a bonus she hadn’t dared expect.
Her heart stumbled when he took her into his arms on the dance floor. He was big, strong and solid, and she felt dainty and safe whenever she stood next to him. Thank you, Universe.
Honest, decent, deeply devoted to his family and loyal to his friends, Jake McBride was the kind of man other people depended on. The kind of man who never let anyone down if he could help it. He was exactly the kind of man Hope had spent her adult life searching for but never really expected to find. Being with him like this, having him smile at her as if he thought she was fascinating was a fantasy come true.
“Havin’ a good time?” he asked, leading her into a competent, dance-class two-step.
“Wonderful.” Hope smiled to herself at the respectful distance he kept between their bodies. Jake would never be the smooth and inventive dancer Marsh was, but he got the job done and there was a lot to be said for his predictability. She tipped her head back to smile at him. “And it’s all thanks to you. You did a marvelous job of creating this wedding.”
His teeth flashed in a surprisingly shy smile. “I can’t claim all the credit. Lots of folks helped in putting it on.”
“Other people had some ideas for it, but you’re the one who made the actual arrangements.”
His tanned face flushed. Glancing away, he started to shake his head, but she cut him off before he could speak. “Don’t even try to deny it. I know exactly how much you did.”
He chuckled and tightened his arm around her waist, turning her toward the middle of the dance floor. “Is that so?”
“Of course it is.” To her surprise, Jake didn’t loosen his hold when he’d completed the turn the way he usually did. She didn’t know why he’d always ignored her previous advances, but she wasn’t going to complain if he made an advance of his own toward her now. Never question the Universe. “And believe me when I tell you that false modesty is not an attractive character trait.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” His decidedly boyish grin softened the strong planes of his face and charmed her completely. “Thank you kindly, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.”
They two-stepped in a relaxed silence until the song ended. Since he’d never spent any more time with her at a party than absolutely necessary for a “duty” dance, Hope expected Jake to escort her from the dance floor. This time, however, he stood there looking down at her with an unfathomable expression in his dark eyes until the band started another ballad. A slow, decidedly sexy ballad.
Without asking permission, he started moving in time with the music again. While she was mystified by his behavior,
